Time to Change
by Kehlan
Summary: Two Federation starships return to Starbase 24 after a routine, boring mission only to find a scene of complete devastation.
1. Chapter 1

A big thank you to my good friend Orionmatrix for co-writing this story with me.

We do not own Star Trek or any canon characters and we are not making any money from this story.

* * *

 **February 2381**

Another routine mission was over. It had been a long boring mission, exactly the kind of thing that Kehlan hated. Escorting a bunch of diplomats to a meeting on Qo'noS was not exactly her cup of tea – or for that matter her bottle of blood-wine.

As far as Kehlan was concerned, the only good thing about the mission had been working with her friend Alexander Corbus, captain of the USS Soulwolf.

The two ships were very different. Kehlan's Endeavour was a rather elderly nebula class although it had been refitted several times since its launch and sported the latest version of the tactical pod. The Soulwolf on the other hand was an ultra-modern, highly experimental vessel. Both Captains of course thought their ship was far superior to the other. It was a friendly rivalry though; for all their differences of opinion, she and Corbus got on extremely well and it was good to spend some time with him again.

The two had served together for several years as part of the Rapid Response Fleet based at Starbase 24. At the end of the Dominion War, the diplomats, seeing how well the Federation and Klingon fleets had worked together, had decided to continue the experiment. The base, located right on the Federation/Klingon border, not far from Khitomer, had been the ideal location to host such an experimental fleet.

Kehlan held the rank of Rear Admiral now and this was the first mission they had served together since her promotion to that rank. Back in the old days, she had been the Fleet Captain and his direct superior. He'd come to the fleet as a young graduate, fresh out of the accelerated officer training programme. Too young to command a starship, she'd thought and she was not completely wrong. But Starfleet had lost too many experienced senior officers during the war and the younger generation were being expected to step up and fill their shoes. Despite his youth he had done well and she had quickly come to see his value. But she had also realised that Corbus was something of a maverick by nature. Fleet action stifled his creativity and his need for independence and so she had recommended that he be detached from the fleet and allowed to take the solo missions that were far more suited to his abilities.

It was just a pity, Kehlan thought, that in a few days they would be back at Starbase 24 where she would rejoin the Rapid Response Fleet and Corbus would go his own way again, back towards Earth.

In the meantime, she had promised to meet Corbus in the holodeck for a training session. Getting up, Kehlan headed into the office that adjoined her own. Currently empty, it belonged to her husband Admiral James Mackenzie. She glanced around the room, taking note of the personal items he had left behind, bits and pieces that stamped this space as being his. Sitting on his desk was a holo-photo, taken at their wedding almost seven years ago. She picked it up, noticing how young and happy they both looked. He had been Endeavour's captain then and she had been his first officer. They'd had to fight for special permission to continue serving together as a married couple. Suddenly missing him, she put the picture back where it belonged. She had been detached from the fleet for almost three months now and James had remained on the Starbase. She was looking forward to spending some time off duty, time with her husband again. Maybe they would make the time for a few days' holiday together down on Frontera, at their favourite spot by the lake.

Kehlan shook her head again in disgust. What was wrong with her today? Looking around again, she finally spotted what she had been searching for. There in the corner was her husband's katana. Picking it up, she drew the blade from its sheath, inspecting it. It was a beautiful blade, over six hundred years old, that had been in his family for generations, but she knew James would not mind her using it. Carefully she re-sheathed the sword and hung it from her belt. Corbus would be expecting her to bring the mek'leth again, Kehlan thought, or maybe the batleth. Certainly not a Japanese katana. With a wicked grin she walked out onto the bridge.

"I will be on the Soulwolf if anyone wants me," Kehlan announced. "Colonel Speares, the ship is yours until I return."

Smiling in anticipation of the match, she stepped into the turbolift and headed towards the transporter room. A moment later she materialised on Soulwolf's transporter pad.

* * *

As Kehlan regained her bearings from the transport she took a moment to look around the transporter room. It was not so different from the one she had just left, there were only so many ways a transport pad could be laid out after all, but there were two notable differences; one being that the section with the transporter chief was actually sealed, preventing anyone from directly interacting with the transporter officer, and the other being the slightly glowing strips along the ceiling. She knew what they were: Phaser strips and from the reddish glow emanating from them they were active, just as they were meant to be when a stranger beamed on board. On the whole Kehlan approved of the innovation but she was less than pleased to see them active. She was no stranger but the ranking officer here.

The transporter chief saw Kehlan looking at the defences and quickly moved to deactivate them, skilled fingers dancing over the LCARS controls. The young man really didn't want to explain to his captain exactly why the rear admiral had been stunned moments after boarding the ship.

A few moments Corbus entered the transporter room, his face brightening with a comfortable smile as he approached Kehlan, his hand already extended in greeting. "Admiral, welcome aboard."

Kehlan fought the urge to roll her eyes but she shook the captain's hand. "Stand easy, captain; as far as I'm concerned, until I beam off this ship again I'm off duty." She offered him a mischievous grin. "No salutes, no 'Yes Admiral, no Admiral'. It's just Alex and Kehlan, the way it used to be when we were both captains. The mission is over now and I think we deserve some time to relax."

Corbus looked slightly confused as he looked at Kehlan, but after a moment, his smile seemed more open and his shoulders relaxed. "Sure thing, Kehlan. So, I trust the trip through the pattern buffers wasn't too bad?"

Kehlan grinned and headed out into the Soulwolf's corridors, Corbus immediately falling into step next to her. "It was nice, but the scenery could be better. It's as foggy as a San Francisco morning."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Corbus said cheerfully, "Oh and that reminds me, you won't be talking your way out of this battle I hope! Not like last time on the Kobayashi Maru." To his immense satisfaction, Kehlan blushed as he continued, "I mean who'd have imagined a Klingon warrior talking herself out of using her weapons? I've never seen the like..."

"This coming from the man who smashed his ship into the space dock doors?"

"That was a simulation!" he protested, "For the thousandth time, it doesn't count! And at least the starbase doesn't have a manoeuvre named after me!"

Bickering light-heartedly and reminiscing about old times, the two made their way to the holodecks.


	2. Chapter 2

It was sheer, blind luck that Hyperion's captain had been on the bridge when the attack began, having just exited from the briefing room after a meeting with her senior staff. Mara Bradfield had stepped through the open doors when the red alert sirens went off. Galvanised into action, she ran across the bridge to her command chair. Her officers were only seconds behind her, each of them swiftly heading for their assigned places. Seating herself, Mara began to pull up data. "REPORT!"

Over the radio they heard Admiral Mackenzie's voice. The Commander in Chief of Starbase 24 sounded calm and business-like, his tone advocating urgency but not panic. _"All hands to battle stations…This is not a drill. I repeat, all hands to battle stations…"_ Then a moment later _, "All Fleet ships to take independent action. Engage and fire at will…"_

Her First officer almost threw himself into the chair next to her, immediately bringing up information on the panel set into the armrest. "Four unknown ships coming in fast," Commander Kamie Rees informed the captain crisply. Mara did not yet know him as well as the rest of her crew. The Bajoran had already proven himself competent but this would be their first major battle since he'd been assigned to her a month ago. "Shields at maximum. All defensive systems online."

"Understood," she acknowledged. "Skonn, take over the helm."

Lieutenant Dayna Tarrant vacated the helm as Skonn moved to replace her. Not waiting to be ordered, she headed straight for the science console, skilled fingers dancing across the console as she searched for information about the mystery attackers.

The Captain nodded her approval. Only a couple of years out of the academy, the half Vulcan, half Klingon Ensign was, despite his youth and relative inexperience, one of the best pilots she had ever worked with. He'd proven his skill many a time in simulations. This was no drill and if they were to survive this attack and beat off the enemy then they needed to work together as a team. Dayna's skill set lay in the sciences and Mara needed every officer and crew member where he or she could be of the most use. "Get us clear of the starbase."

Ships permanently assigned to the Starbase were forbidden to dock unless they were loading or unloading cargo. Nor did they ever enter the inner space docks unless they were scheduled for repairs or maintenance. It was a rapid response fleet after all. In a crisis, uncoupling the docking clamps and exiting through the great space doors took precious minutes to accomplish. Having to use transporters or shuttles to come and go was an inconvenience they all moaned about. Right now though, Mara was grateful for the rule.

"Sir," her security chief, Lieutenant Commander Jonah Wright reported from his station at the back of the bridge, "they are targeting the Nightingale."

Mara let out a very Klingon growl of anger. Nightingale was a hospital ship. Reliant on the red cross painted on her sides and the beacon broadcasting her non-combatant status, she had only nominal weapons capability and no way of defending herself.

"Helm, position us between Nightingale and the enemy." Mara snapped urgently, "They are relying on us."

"Aye, Captain," the young officer said as his hands flew over the console in an attempt to obey his orders, years of Vulcan training keeping him outwardly calm even as his Klingon blood called him to battle.

"Hegh'Ta is moving to assist," the tactical officer, Andrei Trivenko reported, his hands moving swiftly over the console, bringing Hyperion's weapons on line as he spoke. "They are taking heavy fire."

Mara gave a sharp nod of acknowledgement. "Helm, cover them as best you can." She turned towards her science officer, "Tarrant, what the hell are those things?"

"The computer can't identify them." Dayna Tarrant ran a frustrated hand through her tight, afro curls, something she had a habit of doing when she was under pressure and thinking hard. "If I…" Muttering instructions to herself under her breath, she tapped in a series of commands. The ship rocked underneath them and she grabbed hold of the console to stop herself from falling. "Captain, it isn't even tracking them."

 _"Ty che blyiad!"_ Trivenko swore. "I can't lock on."

Russian was a good language for swearing, Mara acknowledged absently. She didn't like her officers swearing on duty but in all honesty, under the circumstances, she couldn't really blame him. Besides, there was no time to chastise him for his foul language. "Switch to manual targeting and fire when ready."

The ship shook violently and Mara struggled to hang on to her seat. "And try to lead it away from the Nightingale."

"Hegh'Ta is in trouble," Trivenko reported, firing off a stream of phaser fire as he spoke. "Her shields are down. She's venting atmosphere and coolant." His eyes were locked onto the tactical display on his console. "Captain, Hegh'Ta is… gone."

A tiny, strangled cry of grief escaped Mara's lips. Hegh'Ta was an Imperial Intelligence vessel. Her life-mate… her husband… K'gor son of K'rell, senior officer of Klingon Imperial Intelligence was on board. How could he be gone, just like that? He might be Klingon, with that absurd belief in a glorious death in battle, but despite her blood and the ridges that marked her face, she thought of herself as Terran. She did not believe in Sto-vo-kor and if it did exist, would it let a half-breed like her in anyway? No, she had no hope of being reunited with him in the afterlife.

Anger flooded through her. Anger at K'gor for dying. At Hegh'Ta's captain for not being able to save his crew. But mostly, anger at the unknown enemy.

Seconds later, under Ensign Skonn's sure guidance, Hyperion turned gracefully to starboard, dropping in behind one of the blurs. Wright and Trivenko quickly took advantage and working together in well-practiced unison, they opened up with a perfectly timed volley of photon torpedoes.

Mara watched as bright, orange torpedoes belched from the forward emitters. They weren't tracking, and she swore under her breath as the enemy ship effortlessly avoided them. "Tell me again why we can't track them," she demanded.

"The computer can't lock onto them, Captain," Trivenko explained. "They aren't registering any mass, or known configurations. No recognizable form of power or movement. None of the usual identifiers we get from even the most alien ships. It's like they're from a different reality."

"They've certainly figured out how to lock onto us!" Mara growled as blobs of energy that in appearance at least, resembled 23rd Century Romulan plasma torpedoes, slammed into them. Despite Skonn's best efforts to manoeuvre the ship out of the way, another blob of energy hit them, causing the bridge lights to dim. In the deadly quiet that followed the hit, they all looked up, waiting for the several seconds it took for the emergency lights to come on. The ship shuddered violently as another volley of weapons crashed into it and at the same time, the tactical station exploded in a shower of sparks, throwing Trevenko to the deck.

"Primary weapons systems are down and we've lost sensors!" Dayna Tarrant yelled. Momentarily abandoning her station, she rushed to assist her fallen colleague. She touched Trivenko on the shoulder. "Commander Trivenko…" He did not move and carefully she turned him over. "Andrei… Andrei…? Captain, he's…"

"Sickbay!" Mara was already shouting into her combadge. She came to her feet, moving to check on her officer. "Medical emergency on the bridge!" Only then did she realize that it was too late. Trivenko's head and torso were a mass of burned flesh.

"Get back to your station, Commander," Mara ordered harshly. "I need to know how to stop those things." Despite the severity of her words, she had to force herself to turn from the body of her friend to face the screen. "Engineering, we need more power on the bridge."

 _"On it, Captain,"_ the voice of her chief engineer came back. He sounded distracted and Mara had no doubt that things down there were as hectic as they were up here on the bridge, _"Shutting down all non-essential systems. We will give you everything we can."_

"Rerouting tactical systems through to my console," her first officer called a moment later as the requested power became available. "Sensors are fried beyond repair but I think Wright and I can get some firepower back."

"Make it quick, Kamie," Mara said tensely. With sensors and weapons down, the once powerful starship was little more than a tin can sitting on a wall in a firing range. Carefully, she picked her way across the darkened, pitching bridge, only realising as she spoke that with the sensors gone, they'd just lost what little intelligence they had about the deadly force attacking them.

Wright was already nodding his agreement, "Working on it." His hands busy as he spoke, "We have phasers back," he announced after a moment. "Attempting to get the quantum torpedoes online."

"Almost there, Captain" Kamie said. Then, "Ulysses has lost a nacelle. She's venting plasma."

"I've got a visual feed…" Tarrant announced. An explosion hit the science station, and Mara found she couldn't bring herself to turn. The main view-screen lit up again, this time showing a dark, grainy image. This wasn't the usual computer generated image that used sensors and previously known details to enhance and fill in any details to an image that might otherwise be obscured by local interference. This was pure, raw, visual feed straight from the cameras.

Fire bloomed on screen, debris spreading outwards and Mara knew that the Ulysses was gone. Nightingale would be next; the hospital ship was little more than a burning wreck.

"I've got him in my sights," Kamie announced with a quick glance at Wright, warning him to be ready _._ "On my mark… Now! Firing phasers and quantum torpedoes."

The Captain knew immediately that something was wrong, because no torpedoes launched. Then she heard the hull scream as another missile strike detonated, rocking Hyperion and sending her crashing to the deck. Half stunned, she got to her feet, shouting "Transmit emerg…!"

Then the explosion engulfed the entire ship.


	3. Chapter 3

Parked out on the outer perimeter when the attack began, the huge Blood-Knife sliced through space, pulling further away from the Starbase in an effort to give itself manoeuvring room. Built for war, the mighty Negh'Var class battle-ship radiated raw, brute strength and packed enough fire-power to be worthy of a whole opera.

It had all happened so fast. One minute they had been at rest, half their crew on board the starbase, the next they were fighting for their lives. There had been no warning, not even the slightest indication that anything was wrong. The Federation was not at war, nor for once, were the Klingons. There was of course, continued unrest in the Romulan sector, but Starbase 234 were monitoring that situation and nothing about this attack bore the hallmarks of the Romulans – or any other known enemy for that matter. Whoever it was, it was someone new and immensely powerful.

General Khetara epetai Rustadh moved quickly to the command chair as she came onto the bridge, summoned by the red alert sirens that had awakened her from sleep. "Status report."

"We are under attack by an unknown enemy," K'vin reported briskly from his position at the communications console.

Khetara snorted in disgust. That much she had figured out for herself. "That's it? There's nothing more you can tell me?"

"There's nothing to tell, General. "The elderly Lieutenant shook his shaggy grey head in disbelief as he continued. "Whatever they are, they are lethal. They have just destroyed the Ch'Tang."

Khetara's eye widened in shock and grief. She had a special fondness for that ship and its crew. Ch'Tang had been her command for many years. Its current captain, Kreltek, had been her first officer and was a close friend as well as a loyal subordinate.

She growled in anger. "K'vin, open a channel… fleet wide." Her vessel rocked under her feet and she staggered, grabbing the arm of her chair as she addressed the ships under her command. "You all heard Admiral Mackenzie. All ships take evasive manoeuvres. Break formation and fire at will. We can't see what we are fighting, but we can make it harder to get us all."

Khetara watched as the assorted ships, Klingon as well as Federation, veered off. She held her breath as Hegh'Ta, in its desperate attempt to defend the Starbase's hospital ship, abruptly disappeared in the bolt of some unknown weapon from a cloaked ship. Another volley lanced out from the unknown assailant and the Dravana, one of the battle-cruisers assigned to the fleet, took a direct hit. Fires bloomed along the length of the ship's hull but she never stopped firing her torpedoes at the enemy.

"We are being hailed, General," K'vin informed her, "It's the Nelson."

"I thought they were still out on long range patrol," Khetara said, startled. "Open a channel, audio only."

 _"Nelson to Rapid Response Fleet, we're receiving multiple distress signals, please report status."_ The voice was that of Captain Teima Joel, Nelson's Bajoran Captain _. "We will be with you in eight minutes and twenty-four seconds. Please respond."_

"This is General Rustadh in command of the Blood-Knife. Do not approach," Khetara responded urgently, "I repeat, do not approach."

 _"What's going on, General?"_

Keeping her attention on the tactical display on the main screen, Khetara swiftly explained the situation. _"Yintagh!"_ She cursed, interrupting herself as on the view-screen, Lancaster took a hard hit and began to list.

 _"General, hold tight, we're on our way. We've dispatched a subspace message to Starbase 234 who are also sending reinforcements."_

Khetara swore in several languages. '"Negative! Nelson, get out of here, any way you can. Use whatever tactics necessary. Someone must survive to warn the Federation and bring help."

She heard Captain Teima protest rebelliously over the comm. channel. _"Not a hope in hell, General, I am not leaving. I have already told you, help is on its way._ _The Federation knows, I have stated the urgency and a fleet is already on its way from 234"_

"I have given you a direct order, Captain," Khetara growled. The General sympathised with his stance. She had never retreated - not from the Borg, the Dominion, the K'zinti, NO ONE...and she would not do so now. "Do NOT approach. Hold your position until reinforcements arrive." She had been wrong to ask him to run from battle, she conceded, but this was as far as she was prepared to compromise. "Tell the Empire we died well."

 _"Understood, General,"_ Teima said with obvious reluctance. _"We will follow your instructions. Qapla' Blood-knife."_

"May the prophets walk with you, Nelson." Offering him the traditional Bajoran farewell, Khetara cut the channel.

On the screen, she saw a flash of light as Hyperion was completely destroyed, nothing more than a spreading mess of debris to show the old Akira class ship had ever existed.

Blood-Knife shook violently. Khetara grunted, ignoring the pain from her right arm as the helm exploded, causing her to spin about and peppering her with debris. Her battle armour shielded her body but she'd always preferred the sleeveless version of the uniform and her arms were uncovered. Violet blood leaked from multiple lacerations on her right arm. She looked at the injured limb, quickly assessing the damage and deciding that for the moment it was the least of her worries, she waved back the approaching medic.

Kavoq ceased moving towards her and merely nodded, standing back and turning to examine the fallen helm officer. It was immediately evident that nothing could be done to save him and Kavoq looked up shaking his head, "He is gone, General."

Whirling, Khetara took the dead man's place, bringing the secondary helm controls on line. She might be a General now but she was still capable of piloting a starship. "If they want this ship, they will have to work for it," she said grimly. "Kavoq, take the science station. Keep scanning, find me something… anything… I can use!"

"Understood, General."

She nodded sharply, and turned the Blood-Knife about, focusing its fading power into its forward torpedoes, and its primary phasers. On the screen she could see one of the blurs wheeling round and coming towards them. "Let's send those _bIHnuch Ha'DibaH'mey_ to Gre'thor. Gunner, manual targeting, fire everything we have."

Sending a volley of verdant disruptor fire at the approaching enemy, Konn bared his teeth in a fierce grin. "It is a good day to die, General. Firing torpedoes… Now!."

Blood-Knife lurched as Khetara sent the ship diving to starboard in an attempt to avoid the incoming fire as two more of the blurs approached at speed. Their weapons struck a glancing blow on Blood-Knife's port nacelle and Khetara was barely able to avoid being thrown to the deck. She watched, fury mounting as the sensors of her ship went off line and they lost all but the grainiest of feedback to the main forward screen.

She looked briefly up as K'vin yelled, "Nightingale is gone, General." No longer on the communications console, he had moved over to help at tactical. "Nelson is holding position. They do not appear to have been detected..."

Nelson's continued safety was something to be thankful for, Khetara thought. Someone had to survive this to tell the Federation and the Empire what had happened here today. Khetara grunted and recorded a brief message into the ship's battle log. "This is General Khetara _epetai_ Rustadh, commanding the Blood-Knife. This will be my last log. We are in action against an as yet unseen enemy and have no hope of survival. I have sent the Nelson back to the Federation with all the information I could obtain, which is almost nothing. We will remain here to defend the Station as best we can." More explosions rocked the bridge and aware of the lack of time, she closed the log with a matter-of-fact "It is a good day to die..."

The weapons were no longer firing. She looked around. Visibility was poor, acrid smoke filling the air but she could see Konn slumped over the tactical panel, K'vin's lifeless body on the deck by his feet.

The helm was unresponsive and aware that the end was close, she moved quickly towards tactical, determined to get out one last round of weapons. On the forward screen, she saw the grainiest image possible. It was close now, filling the screen completely. Straightening her spine, she faced it. " _Qapla'_ my brave crew, I will see you in the Black Fleet and we will kill this enemy a thousand times, laughing!"

She never felt the final attack that disabled the great ship, killing all on board even as Blood-Knife began to drift to port.


End file.
